Chapter One
“Regent Bors has been seen by one of our scouts.” The messenger bent over, panting, having run assumedly from the front gate or something, and I couldn’t see his lips, but then he stood. “He isn’t dead.”
“Former Regent, wait, we have scouts?” Not really what was important here, but it was the first thing that came to mind. I’d learned to hate being blindsided after finding our dungeons stuffed full of what was mostly political prisoners. Why tell the queen there are people wallowing in filth and squalor because they opposed the previous administration?
“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. Former Regent Bors’ presence has been detected outside the barriers.”
The very concept of barriers was something I hadn’t understood until I became a “real” queen. I was of course aware that we lived apart from humans, who seemed unaware of our kingdom, and even other shifters who rarely came to call. Of course, while Bors ruled in my name, the place was a depressing disaster that nobody would want to visit. While my parents lived, I could recall guests. They had parties both for the locals and for friends from other packs, “official” banquets. Also, festivals for the seasons, solstices, equinoxes…any occasion that merited celebration or even memoriam.
I didn’t remember all of these, of course, but others had been sharing stories with me lately and filling in the images in my mind of bright-colored decorations, beautiful clothes, and amazing food. I wanted to bring back these celebrations. To fling the kingdom back into the parties my parents had loved, but with so many other necessities taking precedence, neither time nor resources were available yet. Perhaps for harvest we could do something.
“Your Majesty?” The messenger’s words, spoken somewhat loudly, drew me back from images of banners and fried cakes to the far less unpleasant present. “What would you have us do?”
Arne, the man who gave me the beautiful horse I loved so much, and who was turning out to be a tech genius, and I were sitting in the new office we’d set up for him. We had been going over a bid for windmills to supply power to three villages. The start of our new in-kingdom power grid. At the messenger’s question, he rose and slapped his palm on the desk. “I recommend killing him on sight.”
“But, sir…he is not in the kingdom. We have no power outside our lands. Is that still my instruction to pass on?”
“Yes—”
My head pivoted, watching one then the other to make sure I didn’t miss a word. My hearing wasn’t good, and it had been deteriorating since I was a small child, but it had seemed a little better lately. The healers told me not to get hopeful; this sometimes happened before it got much worse. “No.” I stood as well, brushing away the crumbs on my skirt from the sandwich lunch we’d been sharing as we worked. “Please go to the kitchen and ask Cook to give you something to eat and drink. I will have directives prepared while you dine.” I ushered him to the door, giving Arne a glance over my shoulder. “Arne, please call my other advisors. We must meet at once.”
Despite the lack of 21st century technology for much of the kingdom, we did have things like electricity here in the palace. Also, pilfered service for things like Internet, cell phone connectivity, and, my guilty pleasure, streaming services. I didn’t feel very good about our methods, but soon we’d be generating what we needed without having to steal it. Pilfered did sound nicer, but it was what it was, and the system had been created by Bors.
It made it possible for Arne to send a quick text to Gunnar and Leif and get them to arrive at a dead run from wherever they’d been. Since Leif was sweatier, he’d likely been out on the lands somewhere.
“What’s wrong?” Leif bent over, palms on his thighs, panting.
“Is someone hurt?” Gunnar rushed up and took my arms, examining me for injury.
“Didn’t you tell them, Arne?” I shrugged Gunnar off. “I’m fine, for heaven’s sake. Stop groping me.”
He looked so hurt, I was sorry for a second, but with Bors on the loose, we didn’t have time for hard feelings. And right now, I was so mad, I didn’t want anyone touching me no matter how much I usually might feel otherwise.
“A scout spotted Bors outside the kingdom,” Arne told them. “Apparently he’s not only not dead but has escaped from whatever containment the High Council chose for him.”
“And they haven’t chosen to tell us,” I snarled. “Call them now.”
The three exchanged glances, but Leif was the one who dialed. He’d worked closely with the High Council for years before coming to “advise” me, and the fact he’d been my promised mate since birth had been a huge surprise. I had a feeling Bors didn’t plan to let me marry at all.
“Hello? Give me someone in security. I’m calling on behalf of Queen Janis.” Leif waited for at least five minutes before he was connected to the chief of the department. I was torn between pleased that dropping my name got him the guy in charge and irritated that it took so long. “Perhaps you can explain to me why Former Regent Bors is wandering around outside our borders? We were given to understand he’d been executed.”
He listened for a moment. “No, the word ‘executed’ did not come into play, but the High Council did assure us he would never trouble Her Majesty or this kingdom again. And since he’s right outside the barriers, I can only assume you have failed in your endeavor to contain him.”
More listening.
“No, I’m sure. Maybe you can have someone check before you insist he is still in prison?”
I waved at Leif. “Put it on speaker.” He did and set the device on the desk so we could all hear.
The man on the other end was arguing, sure that we were mistaken, but I cut him off. “This is Queen Janis, and I want to speak with someone who knows what they are doing. You, sir, are spouting off without even bothering to check for a problem. We are going to hang up now, and we expect a call back within fifteen minutes from one of the High Councilors with an explanation of why they not only broke their word through incompetence of their underlings, but that when it happened we were not informed. It sounds as if you don’t know who is in or out of prison there.”
“Your Majesty, I—”
“Our scouts are never wrong.”
I clicked the disconnect button and dropped into the seat in front of Arne’s desk. “Gentlemen, when did we get scouts?”